


The Silver Warden

by 1_F1r3_2000_50urc3



Category: Mahou Shoujo Lyrical Nanoha | Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Suspense
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-28
Updated: 2020-05-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24423268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1_F1r3_2000_50urc3/pseuds/1_F1r3_2000_50urc3
Summary: A 17 year-old student-swordsman with a dark past, gets arrested and pulled from his world by the TSAB for possessing a Lost Logia, which was sent to him by an unknown party. Then, he will have to train to fight against Jail Scaglietti and his forces if he wants to keep all worlds, including his own safe from Jail's maniacal ambition of conquest. (Slight AU)(OC X ?)
Relationships: Main OC x ?
Kudos: 1





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> First thing I would like to say is that,
> 
> This is my first story on this site and if you can provide, I would like constructive reviews/criticism if you have so that I can make each chapter of this story better than the last. 
> 
> Also, I have made this account recently (therefore I'm still new) to cross-post from Fanfiction.net as I heard people said that the site isn't what it used to be, so they recommended Archive Of Our Own.
> 
> This story is a cross-post from Fanfiction.net
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any season of the Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha series, it belongs to Masaki Tsuzuki and produced by Seven Arcs Studios.

At first it was a void of pitch black, then the first thing that came to me was the smell; imagine the smell was like a typical public toilet’s smell but times that by ten folds, along with the stench of a slaughterhouse and rotten eggs.

I tried to pinch my nose, but cold steel strained my wrists from any sort of action. When I tried to move my body, the same happened.

Suddenly, at the same time, I felt sharp and intense pains throughout my body, which made me shout in surprise at the sudden intensity of agony. The pains then lingered for a while, till they were just dull stinging.

The smell went into my nostrils like poison gas, nearly suffocating me as I felt my eyes went slightly wet.

Then, I felt something in front of my eyelids got pulled off, and I opened them to see that I was in a small and dilapidated concrete room. There were moss that were stuck on the walls of the room, like parasitic worms.

I then looked down at my body to see what was causing the pains, and saw my body in a horrid state. My body was completely exposed and there were many bruises, cuts, and burns all over my skin. The wounds were narrow, and were seeping out white-yellow, semi viscous liquids along with blood. The bruises were very dark and swollen, while the burns were badly blistered; the others were either charred black, or raw and bloody.

With widened eyes, I stared at my body, horrified at its state.

Suddenly I felt water, or so I thought splashed on me, from what seemed like it was to my right.

Before I knew it, I was screaming my lungs out in heated agony again till I was coughing relentlessly for a while. I then tasted faint iron in my mouth as crimson droplets dropped on the eroded floor from my opened mouth.

Some of the “water” landed into my mouth, and all I tasted was ‘fishy’-flavored salt.

“Oops, looks like he’s still awake,” a voice said playfully, ending the sentence with an innocent-sounding giggle.

The pain was still there, and I was now in tears while whimpering and groaning in agony.

“Good,” a different voice simply said. This one was more calm, calculating, and colder.

While clenching my teeth, looked to my left and saw a figure at a table.

The table held small, yet razor sharp blades of various shapes; small bottles of various colored liquids; tools like hedge trimmers, saws, and hammers.

There was a steel waste basket that was filled with anything that was bloody.

Tissues, cloths, I could even make out bloody strips and pieces of something that I would like to not think about at the moment.

At the back of my mind, something told me that this amount of pain was just a test taste of what was more to come.

Suddenly, a face came in front of me from my right.

He had messy hair and his eyes were widened and bloodshot, while his pupils somehow looked smaller than an average person’s.

His grin was the most memorable feature of this face; he had an unnaturally large and maniacal grin that reached his ears.

I suddenly remembered where I was after seeing that face. No.

My heart sank and began to race while my throat went up and down like an ocean wave. My stomach was ready to launch its contents to my throat.

No. No. NO. PLEASE NO! NOT HERE! PLEASE, ANYWHERE BUT HERE!

I then screamed for help before I felt my head snapped to the left before it rebounded, as I felt an intense sting flared on my right cheek.

“Shhh, be quiet for a moment buddy; you’re not helping us here,” The maniac in front of me said, still having that damn grin.

I then tried to break out of my restraints, desperately wanting this to end, before the maniac in front me slapped his hand on a gash on my chest and pushed it down.

I screamed again as my wound throbbed relentlessly. It felt like millions upon millions of hot needles were slammed into my skin repeatedly.

“Uh, uh, uh, you of all people should that know it’s rude to act rowdily in front of your audience of your session; the spotlight is on you now!” the maniac’s face became gleeful and excited like a clown while his index finger moved side-to-side.

My eyes were now leaking wet and my mouth was flowing with bubble foam through my teeth. My breaths were like of those who were holding their breath for too long before breathing at long last.

It was as if the very air I was swallowing could heal my wounds.

“Oops, was I too hard?” The maniac asked, while titling his head like a child who pulled off an insect’s limb too hard by accident.

I kept quiet so as to not give him any more thoughts of doing that again or something worst. After about five seconds, he seemed oddly calm and satisfied.

“Well, that’s not hard to be well-behaved now was it?” He asked rhetorically as he clapped on my back with surprisingly much lighter force than before, as if praising me.

“Now, let’s move on to the next part of the session shall we? I’ll hand you back to my old friend now,” he said casually, as he walked to where the figure was and leaned against the table while the latter came to me.

This time, the figure was revealed to be a man who was wearing an unexpectedly clean lab coat.

His face was expressionless while his unbearably blond hair was combed back rather nicely and more presentable than the maniac.

His eyes were ice-cold yet had a professional look to them.

What overshadowed these seemingly more pleasant features were his white yet bloody gloves, and a bone saw in his right hand.

The blade was covered in dried blood and even smudges of yellow; not to mention there was also a bit of rust I could see from under all that unsightly contents.

When he was in front of me, he said nothing and suddenly slammed the blade on my left shoulder and dragged it in a vertical manner across an untouched area of my skin and flesh.

I screamed again, more intensely than before as I thrashed in my restraints like a caged animal.

I could hear my skin and flesh being teared and ripped off next to my ear.

My body was now in auto-pilot as it continued to thrashed, trying its hardest to obtain the freedom to get away from its present threat.

Physical harm was followed by pain, and the pain triggered something else far more potent. Fear.

Just when I was about faint from the pain and my fears, I heard a voice that sounded vaguely familiar to me.

“ _Henry, wake up._ ”


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to anybody reading this fanfiction, I've already had this prepared after I posted the 'Prologue' chapter. If you like the story so far, please let me know what you think can improve the story further, I would love to see/hear it.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own any season of the Magical Girl Lyrical Nanoha series, it belongs to Masaki Tsuzuki and produced by Seven Arcs Studios.
> 
> Proofread, edited and re-posted chapter on June 7, 2020, out of sudden dissatisfaction for the chapter. :P

Within a cold, dark room, his upper body was launched to a 90-degree angle like a catapult, launching some cold sweat in the air as if they were like fireballs for said catapult.

His hands gripped the fabric in front of him like a lifeline, while his lungs were already doing its laborious work of calming him down as adrenaline still flowed throughout his body. His breaths were like he had just finished a marathon.

After for what felt like hours to him, he started calming down and relaxed. He felt his heartbeat and breaths started to slow down to their normal rhythm.

He then buried his face into his hands as tears started to flood his eyes, frustrated at the fact that he hasn't gotten over _it_ , for what seemed like a billionth time.

After a minute, he tiredly sighed and looked at his clock on the wall, it was now six in the morning. The first class of high school starts at the usual eight in the morning. He then got up from his bed to get ready.

Ten minutes later, he was already in front of a mirror, combing his black-dark grey hair into a simple right-side part style. He didn't like the elaborate hairstyles that others in his class would choose.

His face was young, yet it also had a matured look. He had some stubble under his chin and above his upper lip, while his jawline was well-chiseled. There was also a faint shape of what was once a cut across his left cheek.

His eyes were unnaturally steel grey, while there were hints of sky blue in the sea of grey.

He was wearing a plain T-shirt that was hugged by a short sleeved black-blue checkered flannel, and cream colored Khaki pants.

The young man then grabbed his bag and head down to the dining room, where he saw a man in his early 50s. The man in question was staring down at his phone while taking a sip from a cup that was emitting a strong yet, lightly caramelized smell with hints of nuts

"Morning, dad," he greeted with a small smile.

"Morning, Henry," the middle-aged man, now known as the young man's father greeted back after turning to the teen to give a warm smile in return.

The young man, now known as Henry, made himself a sandwich and poured a cup of orange juice.

Then as they were eating, Henry then turned to his father and said,

"Uncle Liam wants me to come by his place this evening to give me something, so I'll be a little late for training today,"

"Yeah, you told me yesterday; don't worry, I'm not that old," his father chuckled lightly.

"As for training, the center is closed for today, something to do with a group of assholes vandalizing it. So take it as a day off, and tell the big guy I said hi," His father said with a livid look initially, before it quickly disappeared when he looked at Henry with his bright blue eyes, while showing an amused smirk.

His hair was mostly black, but there were areas of grey and white. His face, though slightly worn, was still as young as when he was in his early 40s.

Henry's face then turned sour by an angry scowl that formed on his face.

" _Shitheads like them have nothing better to do with their lives other than causing problems to others_ ," he thought as he quietly sighed and shook his head. He then ate a piece of his sandwich. Though it wasn't really surprising at all, it was still incredibly frustrating.

Meanwhile, moments after that thought, his father's eyes suddenly widened.

He then got up from his chair and went somewhere in the house.

Henry looked at his father's retreating back disappeared as he raised an eyebrow, while tilting his head to the side ever so slightly.

His father shortly came back later with something in his hand. It was a shining black-colored rectangular object.

"But anyways…," he started.

He then placed the object on the table gently and pushed it into Henry's reach.

It was sleek and thin and had curved corners. It also had a dash-like shape above the screen with two small circle that were each on the sides of the 'dash'.

Upon inspecting it, Henry's eyes widened in realization and gave his father a surprised yet questioning look. His father smiled and gave him a short nod.

"…Happy birthday, son," the older man said with a happy grin.

Henry then got up to put his arms around his 'old man' tight while resting his head against his father's cheek in a loving manner.

"Thank you, dad," Henry said with a bright smile on his face.

When they let go, his father then quickly yet gently, placed a hand place on Henry's right shoulder.

"Henry, though you're still one year below the minimum threshold adult age, you've already become a more mature one than most young men in my eyes. I appreciated and cherished every moment of everyday that I spent being your father even now; despite that I'm not in blood. Know that I love you no matter what. Making you my son was one of the best decisions that I'm glad that I had ever made, and I couldn't be more proud of you now," His father said while rubbing Henry's right shoulder with tenderness.

"Also, though you have lost so much of your life than most from what you had told me when you were younger, there will be more people that you'll come to love other than me and the rest of my-, and your family now, who are willing to give you more than what you've had lost, even though what they give could never replace the ones and things you had lost. I understand that there are things that are hard to move on from, but at least try. Let others help and support you as well. It was what I did to move on from my own horrors that I've experienced during my previous career and even today; to let others support you," he said sagely from experience.

"However, I wished that I could've been there sooner for you," He said solemnly, with his eyes looking down from Henry's.

Henry, now touched, gave his father another tight and happy embrace while rubbing his back. His father returned the gesture just as willingly.

After their embrace and had a happy breakfast, Henry, with his bag went out the house's front door. He was about to walked to the side of the street to wait for his school bus, before he noticed an envelope on the house's porch floor.

He picked it up and saw that it had his full name and house address written by hand on the envelope.

Then he noticed something a bit strange on the letter. Instead of having his family name as, 'Eisenberg-Hermann' at the back of his first name, it only had 'Eisenberg'.

This has never occurred before.

Henry, now confused and curious, squeezed the bottom of the envelope until he felt something pressed against his skin from inside.

Henry wondered what was inside before calling his father.

"Dad! Did you drop one of the mail earlier?"

His father then came and said,

"No, I thought I got everything from the box,"

Henry then showed him the envelope.

"It said that it's meant for me, but it only said my first name with my original family name rather than having it with 'Hermann'," Henry said with a still confused expression.

"It's probably a first-time mistake on the mail delivery service's part," His father guessed, though he knew this kind of mistake was a strange one, considering that the mail service company that delivered their mail prided themselves of doing their job flawlessly.

He then asked,

"Does it say who sent it?"

"No, it just only said our address and my 'full' name only," Henry answered.

He then looked at it with suspicion before Henry added,

"Also, there's something inside."

Father was then silent for a moment before suggesting.

"Maybe I should open it."

Suddenly, at the mere mention of the suggestion, Henry felt a strong urgent feeling that as if spoken only he should open it to see what's inside.

"No thanks, I'll open it." He said while opening the envelope.

He was expecting a letter to come together with the object inside, but instead it was only the latter.

When the object fell onto Henry's hand, he suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline throughout his body like a tsunami. There was also a feeling of tiredness as well.

The combined feelings was so strong that Henry almost dropped to the floor, like blood rushing back to one's legs after they've been sitting in an uncomfortable position for too long.

"Henry! Are you alright?" His father nearly shouted worriedly as he was prepared to catch his son from potentially fainting.

Then shortly after the feelings came, they subsided just as quickly and Henry regained his balance.

"I'm ok, just give me a moment," he said, while straining to recompose his thoughts.

" _What the hell was that?_ " Henry thought.

"Don't scare me like that," the older man sighed as he shook his head.

Henry then looked at the object in his hand and inspect it, with a surprised look on his face.

It had the size of the 'pointer' segment of his own index finger; it was crystalline with a beautiful and majestic gleam to it, and it was translucent silver-blue in color. It also had a rectangular in shape with refined curves around its corners.

It sparkled as Henry turn it left and right, while his father looked at it with awe and surprise.

"This could fetch a high price, but I think it be rude to sell whoever 'gave' you that." He whistled before he joked.

"It could've been stolen, and its envelope probably got its label mixed up." He added, his face turning a bit more serious this time.

Henry looked at the object again to find anything new, but it seemed that there wasn't any more surprises that it could throw now.

"I'll ask the mail service for the sender and on second thought, it could've been one of your more 'sympathetic' and 'caring' relatives back in Germany who 'secretly' sent it to you," His father suggested in a resentfully sarcastic tone at the thought of Henry's relatives back in Germany, as he walked away to another area in the house.

At the mere mention of his relatives, Henry scowled again as he shook his empty fist a bit, thoughts of hatred and resentment rushed into his mind.

Suddenly, Henry heard his school bus coming towards his house and quickly put the valuable object in one of his khakis' zipper-pockets.

When he came into the bus, Henry met up with his only friend from high school, Ethan Church.

"Ethan," he greeted when he reached his long-time friend, who was seated at the far back of the bus.

Ethan, who was reading a book looked up at Henry with a look of immediate recognition.

"Oh hey man," Ethan responded rather timidly with a nod, but he was also smiling rather excitedly at the moment.

Then Ethan put down his book, and took out something from his bag.

"Happy Birthday, Henry," Ethan said with a smile as he was holding a pair of newly-bought headphones.

One thing that Henry noticed was the company brand name that were marked on the side of the headphones. It made his eyes widened in shock and surprise.

"That's a 'Sennheiser'," Henry stammered a bit.

"Yeah, the latest model; used the pocket money I had decided to start saving over the past few months, along with some loans from some of my relatives to get this," Ethan said while having one last look at the headphones before handing it to Henry with a proud and satisfied smile on his face.

"I've tested it a few days ago and yesterday to judge its quality and making sure everything was working. Trust me, it was very immersive when I used it. My mom even had to go to my room to shake my shoulder to get my attention. Apparently, she was calling me for the past 15 minutes, and I couldn't hear her at all; I was too immersed," Ethan said with a chuckle.

Henry's expression then turned apologetic and guilt-ridden.

"Ethan, you didn't have to buy something like this for me, I-"Henry was cut interjected by Ethan, who suddenly was now frowning.

"First of all, seat," Ethan said, now suddenly adopting a surprisingly serious and commanding tone.

Henry complied and took the seat next to Ethan.

"I did it for you, because you've been my best and one of the only few friends that I have constant contact to this day. You also have been good to me all these years since we met the second time. You had no reason to help me when I was in trouble, yet you did. So, don't ever think you don't deserve this; trust me you do and I want you to have it," Ethan finished his speech with a bright smile as he clapped his hand on Henry's back lightly.

"Plus, I didn't really had the money to buy something like this for you before," Ethan then went back to his timid self, while scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

Henry was shocked, and again touched at what was said by Ethan.

After a few seconds of silence between both of them, Henry said,

"I don't know what to say but, thank you, Ethan; and you too are my best and _only_ friend that I have in a _long time_ ," Henry said as he gave Ethan a brotherly-like hug.

"Your welcome," Ethan replied back.

After they let go, Henry suddenly rather excited at the thought, took out his new phone that was given to him by his father and showed it to Ethan, which garnered the latter's full attention.

Henry then opened his new phone and inspect it to make sure everything was running smoothly before handing it to Ethan to check it out himself.

" _Seems dad took the liberty of installing my own sim card and added his and my adoptive family's contact number. Thanks dad,_ " Henry thought with a grateful smile as he stared out the window of the bus.

Henry never really had a phone of his own before. He would usually use his father's when it came to contacting Ethan, things for school, and sometimes even for entertainment; which his father had no problems with that, as long as he controlled his usage.

Then for whatever reason, he suddenly remembered the gem that he got from the envelope earlier, which caught him off guard. After he recovered his inner composure, he decided not to say anything about it to his friend.

When the duo reached their school, classes were still the same as usual. The classes were quite boring for Henry and Ethan at times, but they'd rather just note down whatever the teacher puts on the board or said, and answer questions than just doing nothing while staring at the clock. When the classes of the day were finished, Henry thanked Ethan for the birthday present once again before saying and waving 'bye' while catching a regular bus to his uncle's house.

Uncle Liam was the older brother of his father; who's name was Damian, was currently working as both a full-time blacksmith and bladesmith. He was a soldier before he retired due to a permanent leg injury he suffered in the Persian Gulf War. Henry's father was also an ex-soldier and Navy SEAL, before he retired to adopt and take care of Henry. He had since then taken up full-time as a HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts) instructor.

HEMA or Historical European Martial Arts, refers to the research and training that associated with combat arts of medieval Europe; which are stemmed from limited documentations like martial art manuals of said arts, from different cultures and combat styles in medieval Europe. The weapon combat styles can range from a short bladed weapon, like the Dutch dagger to longer ones, like the Scottish broadsword. The European Longswords are also included.

It was based on the idea that despite how outdated these combat systems are today, they can still be revitalized in the modern era in a form(s) of art rather than combat; through vigorous observation from the olden texts; physical experimentations to see if new interpretations could've been viable back then, and the study of European cultural backgrounds of different styles.

Research groups that specializes in HEMA, often do research on it through research papers and videos, while testing each other's interpretations of how one style was used and practice back in the olden days; which also often led to new questions surrounding HEMA.

Henry's father was mostly specialized in teaching the longer bladed weapons. Henry's father has also been Henry's teacher ever since he first got interested into HEMA (Historical European Martial Arts), and its swordsmanship aspect.

Though, there were times when Henry's father asked him to help his brother at his blacksmith/bladesmith shop during school holidays so that he'll have much more to do other than training with his father in HEMA or hanging out with Ethan.

After reaching the bus stop, Henry then walked for around five minutes before reaching a tire-mark path through a forested area.

Then, after a few minutes of walking along the path, Henry then reached a large opening and saw a red house ahead of him.

It was a two story house that had white-framed windows and a blue-grey roof. It also had a large structure built next to the house, where there was a blue colored, 1960s model of a Ford Mustang parked in front of it.

There was also a gate in front of the house, which was connected with 'walls' of thick wiring that surrounded the property. Henry then went towards it and pressed a button that was on the left side of the gate, which was mounted on the fence.

Around a half minute later, a figure of a rather tall man appeared from the house's front door, and moved onto its porch. His grey-white hair was in a mess and somewhat shiny. His beard had the similar color palate as his hair, and in the same condition as his hair. His face looked like worn leather, yet he still retained some youth back when he was a bit younger. His eyes were the same color as his brother's.

He basically looked like an older version of Henry's father except for the differences in height. The man was wearing a black shirt and beige cargo pants.

"Uncle Liam!" Henry greeted as he waved.

His uncle waved back and walked limply towards the gate.

When he opened the gate, Henry went to him and we then embraced each other like all close uncles and nephews.

"Henry! It's so good to see you again. How long has it been since you visited me?" Liam asked as he scratched the side of his head, trying to remember.

"A few months ago, I believe," Henry answered while smiling widely, happy to see his uncle again after quite a long while.

"Well, it felt like years to me. Happy birthday, Henry," his uncle said with a bright smile, as Henry then thanked him for remembering.

"Come on in, I'll get you something to eat," he then invited Henry into the house.

They went into the house, where Henry was offered to have a seat in the dining room.

The room had numerous pictures, paintings, and mounted clear-view cabinets containing of various items dating back to even as far as the 18th century till the early 20th century.

There were also rifles and swords that were held in a large cabinet that were Civil War era.

Liam then came from the kitchen with two plates in his hands.

"Here you go," he said as he placed a plate of a large piece of steak and fries in front of Henry, which seemed to be prepared just today.

He also had steak and fries of his own and sat across the table from Henry.

They then started to eat while having a chat as well.

"So, how's your father been doing so far?" he asked, as he ate a piece of his steak with a curious look.

"He's been doing fine; told me to tell you that he said hi, and he got me my first phone for my birthday," Henry told him as he took out to show his new phone.

"Ah, people these days with their phones, not really a good thing to look at the screen so much," he advised, while pointing his middle and index finger to his hazel-blue eyes.

"Don't worry uncle, I've been mostly focusing sword training with dad to be too concerned with that. You know how it has been my hobby ever since he brought me to his workplace," Henry assured his uncle.

When Henry was younger, his father brought him to his workplace to show how he teaches his students, and young Henry was entranced at how his father and his students moved with their 'safe' Longsword replica. The way they moved were somewhat slow, but they were also conducting their movements as if it were like a dance performance.

His father told him that it wasn't about swinging a sword wildly that wins sword fights back in the olden days. There were steps that one would have to follow in order to make a sword an efficient weapon. Same goes for any kind of weapon, as it is an extension of one's self, and it is the person behind the weapon who makes it efficiently dangerous to others.

One day, Henry asked his father whether he could teach him the basics of HEMA out of curiosity. His father agreed, as he wanted his son to learn things that doesn't involve just the usual academics in school. Since then, curiosity then became a hobby as Henry would train frequently since then.

Every day since that day, He started come to his father's workplace to train with him in more aspects in HEMA, especially the more advanced and eventually master-level aspects every day for hours, as years went by.

Henry also eventually became somewhat his father's 'assistant instructor', as he would volunteer to help his father's junior and more struggling students.

"Well, that's good, don't want you to look at it for the full whole days like a robot," Liam laughed at his small joke.

After they've finished their meals, they were then sitting across from each other at the living room's couches, where it had more antiquities like the ones from the dining room. This time, there were more swords and other types of blades mounted on the walls, and in cabinets in this room than the previous room.

Liam had a black, leather case-box next to him. It was long in length and quite thick. It looked like it would still be in pristine condition if it was hit with a crowbar at full force. It also had two stainless steel latch hasp locks that kept it shut.

"Happy Birthday, Henry," Henry's uncle said with a smile before placing the box on the coffee table, in front of Henry.

"What is it?" Henry asked with a confused look as he unlatched the locks, and lift the lid of the box open. It revealed a long black nylon sheath that ended till the quillion (cross-guard), which was together with the hilt and pommel.

Upon first inspection, the cross-guard was straight and simple but in its middle, it also had a circular piece of silver that has a small symbol that resembles a wolf's head that seemed to be in the process of turning into a knight's helmet, which also took on the resemblance of a wolf . There was also a part of the cross-guard's middle that extends onto both a small part of the hilt, and the ricasso apparently.

The hilt, or handle was long enough for two-handed wielding. It was wrapped by a piece of midnight blue-dyed leather that covered entire hilt, with silver rings fitted around said leather. There were also braided wires wrapped around the grooves of the hilt, which were carved between where the rings were.

The pommel had similar shape and color of the cross-guard's middle piece, yet it had a different symbol. The symbol showed a wolf glaring its fangs threateningly at Henry, as if he was a trespasser who entered its territory. At the base of the pommel, there a small cross-guard like piece that was made into a cross. Though the pommel was slightly less refined than the cross-guard's middle piece, the craftsmanship of it was still nothing to be scoffed at.

When Henry laid his steel grey eyes upon on it, he felt his heart skipped a beat and his hands were shaking, as if they were in just as much awe as he was towards the craftsmanship of its cross-guard, hilt, and the pommel. It was all well-made, and fitted nicely.

His very heart, soul, and mind then screamed out to him to wield the weapon. He complied.

Slowly taking and holding the weapon carefully in his hands as it were a newborn child, he took off the sheath from the blade and inspected it more thoroughly.

The blade was perhaps the most beautiful component of the sword out of all of its other components. It was long and its fuller was smoothly grinded, while its twin sided edges shone like pearls that were found fresh from the ocean's waters. Speaking of waters, there were also patterns on the blade that resembled the movement of water or the ocean waves, which could only be made if a specific process of blade-making was used.

It was used to be commonly described as a type of 'magical steel' that was first created in the capital state of Syria back in the olden days, which had the same name as the steel that was used to create the sword's blade. For one to create such patterns 'naturally' on a blade is a difficult process, as it requires two or more different types of steels to create such patterns. A blade created from such process, would invoke a powerful feeling within a one's heart, for the price of heightened effort that it must've took to produce such patterns of a blade of this size.

After looking at it for what felt like hours, Henry faintly felt something dropped on his lap and saw that there was a small wet splattered-dot on his khakis. At first he wondered where it came from until another one dropped onto his pants. He then realized something and reached his eyes to touch them gingerly. When he looked at his fingers, he saw the tips of the fingers were drenched in clear, shining liquid.

Henry then heard a chuckle and turned his eyes to his uncle.

Liam had one of most widest and proudest smiles that Henry had ever seen. His eyes were glassy and somewhat brighter than usual. The part where his eyes and nose was were becoming crimson.

"Busy weeks of my working time were usually worth it to see a satisfied customer, but for you, weeks of every spare time I can get is worth it to see someone like you with that reaction to something like this," Liam said with tones of pride and joy.

Henry wiped his watery eyes.

"It's better than what I would've wanted," Henry stammered as his nose sucked air in sharply as a 'slurp' sound came.

"Happy to hear that from you, and Happy Birthday again, Henry," Liam said to his dear nephew.

Henry then put the sword back in its sheath and into the case before reaching his uncle with a tight and tearful embrace.

"Thank you, Uncle Liam." He said as steams of tears fell from his eyes.

"No problem, kid," His uncle happily replied, with a bit of tears of his own, reminiscing the first time that he met the boy.

After a moment of silence, Liam asked,

"You want to take it for a test run?"

"…Yeah," Henry answered.


End file.
